The Love of a Latino

by Ewing, A. B.

  “I know what it seems like, but I assure you there is a lot more to this than meets the eyes.”

  “Is there? Why don’t you enlighten me then?” Natasha snapped.

  “I would love to, but I really think that is something I should discuss with your sister.”

  “She has been hurt enough. I don’t care who you are, but I won’t let anyone hurt her again and don’t think for one second I am going to stand by and let you or that bastard son of yours take her baby from her.” Natasha pushed away from the window, challenging Lauralyn.

  She admired the younger woman’s devotion to her sister. Placing the half empty glass next to the chair, she stood to meet Natasha half way across the small room. “Mrs. Mason, neither you nor your sister have anything to fear from me or my son. I swear by everything I hold true to, I did not come here to cause any trouble. Maybe this will give you some consolation.” She paused, staring the younger woman full in the eye. “Rafe called off the wedding.”

  That got her attention. Natasha blinked, opened her mouth to say something but a soft moan from the bed drew both their attention to Dahlia. She was waking up.

  ****

  Dahlia had the most awful dream. She had been standing at the gate and there was a beautiful woman who said she was Raphael’s mother. She opened her eyes and grimaced against the light slicing through the curtain. The woman in her dream looked just like the one standing behind Natasha.

  She closed her eye again, putting a hand to her head. Why did she feel as if she had just been run over by a bus? Her mouth felt as if she had been chewing on cloth. Her eyes flew open resting on the stranger in the room. It wasn’t a dream, she was really there.

  “Dahlia, are you alright?” Natasha was kneeling next to her bed, her face lined with concerned. Licking her dry lips she nodded.

  “Here drink this.” Her sister shoved a glass into her hand. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she gulped down the water, her eyes never leaving the woman. The intruder stepped forward and Dahlia’s hand protectively covered her stomach trying to conceal her condition.

  “Don’t bother; I already know you’re pregnant.” Her cool, controlled demeanor made Dahlia’s hair stand on edge. Her voice softened “I’m sorry I startled you earlier, but I need to speak to you.”

  She was standing at the foot of her the bed her eyes fixed on Dahlia. Her presence made the room seem so much smaller. This was Raphael’s mother. Lauralyn, that’s what she had said her name was, hadn’t she? Her eyed darted to her sister, then back to the woman. “What...what do you want?”

  “I need to speak to you about my son.”

  “You are not taking my baby!” Dahlia shrieked.

  “That’s not why I am here. I didn’t even know you were pregnant until you fainted.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She looked at Natasha who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Her expression said she wasn’t sure if she should speak with the other woman in the room.

  “I have no secrets from my sister. Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of her.”

  “Very well then,” She returned to where she was sitting, crossing a long leg over the other she directed her attention to Dahlia.

  “When I met Rafe’s father, I was in Spain with my parents. My father had business and it was customary that when my father travelled, the entire family did. I was only seventeen, young, and free without a worry in the world. The day I saw him—he was tending to the field, so strong and handsome.” Her eyes lit up at the memory. “I fell in love with him that very day. We started seeing each other…a few stolen hours every day, but it was enough for us. Then my father found out. He threatened Alejandro with rape, told me that if I didn’t stop seeing him, he would have him arrested. But we loved each other so much. Neither of us was going to let my father keep us apart, so Alejandro and I eloped. My father threatened to cut me off. For years he didn’t speak to either of us, but when Rafe was born, he finally accepted our marriage.”

  “That is a very nice story, but I fail to see what any of that has to do with me.”

  “On the contrary, my dear, it has a lot to do with you and your current, um…predicament. You see, when Rafe was a boy, I used to tell him stories about his father and I, how our love kept us together. He used to love those stories. He grew up believing that one day he would find a woman that he could share a love with, a love as great as my husband and I have.”

  “Sarafina…”

  “No. Believe me, Sarafina loves only Sarafina, but she and Rafe grew up together. Her father and my husband do business together; have for almost thirty years, so I think everyone just assumed that with our family being so close, marriage between our children was inevitable. I have been pressing my son for a grandchild for a while. I believe he asked Sarafina to marry him out of loyalty to me and his father.”

  “Don’t any of your other children have kids?”Dahlia queried.

  “Unfortunately, Rafe is an only child,” Lauralyn replied to her question.

  There was so much she didn’t know about him. At least she had Natasha. “Please, go on,” Dahlia prompted. She wanted to know more about the man who has stolen her heart and given her a baby.

  “When Rafe came here, he led us all to believe he was on a business trip. Turned out he wanted time to himself before the wedding, but then he met you and everything changed. The first thing he did when he came home was call off the wedding.”

  “He’s not married?”

  “No, Dahlia, he isn’t. He couldn’t go through with it. That’s why I came here. When you two were together…that last time, he had already decided to call off the wedding. He had every intention of telling you about Sarafina. Then he was going to fly home, but then you answered his phone….” Her voice trailed away, leaving Dahlia to complete the rest of the sentence.

  “It was Sarafina. I was so upset when she said Raphael was her fiancé.” Dahlia’s guts twisted. Why was she telling her all this now? What good could possibly come from this now?

  “My son loves you, Dahlia. I’m not sure if he even knows it but he does.”

  “How could he love me? He doesn’t even know me.”

  Lauralyn’s face softened and she came to stand next to the bed. “I fell in love with Rafe’s father before I even knew his name. Tell me something, Dahlia. Do you love my son?”

  She wanted to say no, but she’d be lying. Loving Raphael came as easy as breathing and to deny that would be denying her heart. Her baby gave a swift kick and her hand went back to her stomach. Looking the older woman in the eye, she answered. “Yes.”

  “So if you could love him even though you hardly know him, why is it not possible that he may love you?”

  Lauralyn was right. Aside from his name and that he spoke Spanish, she didn’t know Raphael, but that did not stop her from falling in love with him. Is it possible that he could really love her?

  “If he loves me why didn’t he come back?”

  “From what little he told me, he tried to explain but you wouldn’t listen. He believes that you hate him and never want to see him again. Do you know that he still has your number on his phone? That is how I found you.”

  “But I don’t have that phone number anymore. That was my work phone.”

  “So how are you sure he has not tried calling you?” Oh God, this was all too much to take in. A dull throb was beginning at the back of her eye. Dahlia wasn’t sure if Raphael had indeed tried to contact her.

  “Do you plan on telling him about the baby?

  “I didn’t because I didn’t know where he was. I thought he would probably be married by now. But now…Oh I don’t know. I need to think.” She groaned squeezing her eyes with the heel of her hand, hoping the dull ache would go away.

  “Don’t you think he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father?” Rafe did deserve to know. The dull throb had now developed into a full blown headache.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I
was hoping you would go back to New York with me. All I ask is that you talk to him. Please, hear what he has to say—then you can make a decision.”

  “I can’t go to New York with you!” Dahlia protested.

  Natasha didn’t comment throughout the entire conversation between the two, instead, silently observing the emotions that flickered across their faces, but now she spoke.

  “She’s right you know. Before you didn’t know where he was, now you do. He deserves to know that he’s going to be a father. Go with her…”

  “But…”

  “No, Dahlia. I know you’re still angry, but it’s no longer about the two of you. You have a baby to think about now.”

  Why did Natasha always have to be right? Dahlia didn’t know if she could face him. If she had only listened to him that night so much hurt could have been avoided.

  “I’m staying at the Hyatt Hotel. I’ll be here for another three days. Whatever you decide please let me know. One thing you must know though, if you don’t tell Rafe about his child, I will. My son deserves that much.”

  ****

  One thing you must know though, if you don’t tell Rafe about his child, I will. My son deserves that much. Lauralyn’s words echoed in her head. Dahlia was so confused. Staring out at the wide, open blue sea, Dahlia wondered how things could have gotten so complicated. This was the only place where she could think. This is where she had met him for the first time. Well, at least where he met her, since she had passed out at his feet.

  She thought she had her life all figured out. She was supposed to spend another year just enjoying Trinidad. After that, both she and Natasha were going to start their own little catering business. Marriage and children were in her plans, but not now. She wasn’t kidding herself, she didn’t believe in happily ever after, but she did believe in love. However, her idea of love was nothing like this. Here she was five months pregnant, the father of her child on a whole different continent.

  But what if he loved her? She couldn’t leave home again. This is where she wanted to be, where she longed to be. Circumstances had deprived her of a childhood she yearned, she was not about to take that from her child. What about you, Dahlia? What about your happiness? A silent voice whispered. Maybe your baby could be just as happy somewhere else. At least he or she would have you and Raphael. That same voice whispered.

  Oh, she was so confused. “Mama, I wish you were here.” She sighed, her words floating with the wind, rising beyond the gray mass of clouds and she could swear she heard her mother’s voice whisper in her ear.

  “Follow your heart, Dahlia.”

  And there was her answer. She had to follow her heart. A tiny ripple moved across her stomach as her baby offered its own opinion as well.

  Blowing a kiss to heaven she whispered, “Thank you, Mama.”

  ****.

  His mother had been gone almost a week. She was supposed to be somewhere in Milan, doing some charity work or something. It wasn’t like Lauralyn to disappear for so long without calling him.

  You would be lucky if she even bothered to try. You have been behaving like a complete ass these past months, ignoring her calls and turning down her dinner invitations. Rafe’s inner voice said. But surely she would understand. He was a man in love with a broken heart. He had never experienced this depth of love for any other person. When that man had answer’s Dahlia phone, it had almost driven him crazy. He had lost himself in the bottom of vodka bottles hoping to numb the feelings but it hadn’t worked. He became a bastard to be around, people shrinking away from his presence, waiting for him to explode. He became almost a stranger to the one person that was closest to him in the world—Mamá, but she hadn’t given up, calling every day, inviting him to have lunch or dinner.

  But he was going to put an end to that. He was a Cavos, he dealt with thousands of staff on a daily basis; travelled the world. He was a smooth talker and always got his way. What was stopping him from going to Dahlia? Not a damn thing. He didn’t care if Dahlia had a lover or if she didn’t want to see him, he would make damn sure he saw her. He certainly wasn’t going to get her out of his system anytime soon, so he might as well do something about it. This time he would make sure she listened.

  He was about to buzz Luann in to have her book him the first flight to Trinidad, when his mobile rang. Glimpsing the display, he smiled when he realized who the caller was.

  “Mamá, you’re back.”

  “Hola, Hijo, and yes I am. I would like it if you could join me for dinner later.”

  “Mamá, I would love to, but I’m afraid I may have plans…”

  “Nonsense, I want you to come to dinner tonight and I will not take no for an answer. I will see you at eight.”

  And just like that she was gone. He stared at the phone in his hand, not believing she just hung up on him. He had a good mind to call her back and…and what? You haven’t seen your mother in weeks and it was time you put an end to this ridiculous feud with your father. This would be the perfect opportunity to do just that.

  As desperate as you may be to see Dahlia again, you have to set things right here first. Besides, you don’t want to bring her home to meet your parents with all this tension in the air. For the first time in months he truly smiled. Things were looking up. Tonight he would solve the issues with his father; tomorrow he would go after his heart.

  ****

  Rafe killed the engine of the Bugatti and stepped out of the car. It had certainly done the job it was intended to. The sleek race car ate up the distance in half the time. He was early but that was a good thing. It would give him some time to talk to his mom first—tell her about his plans.

  Luann was able to get him a flight the following afternoon, so he had plenty of time to pack. His heart kicked up a notch at the thought of seeing Dahlia again. Just a few more hours Rafe, a few more hours, but let’s get tonight over with first.

  Taking the steps two at a time, his fist rapped on the large antique door. When no one answered, he jammed his finger on the bell. Shifting the bottle of wine to the other hand he pounded on the door, now louder. Casting a glance at his watch, he grimaced. He was almost an hour early. His mother hated surprises and that is exactly what she got when the huge door swung open.

  For a moment she looked at him as if he was a stranger. Casting what seemed like a nervous glance over her shoulder she said in unusually loud tone. “Rafe, you’re early.”

  Strolling into the room he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, handing her the wine and answered. “It’s good to see you too.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.

  Lady Cavos darted another look around the room as if she was looking for something or someone.

  “Mamá, is everything alright?”

  “Of course, why would you ask such a silly question?” Hooking an arm in his, she led him to the sitting room. She all but pushed him into a seat and with a brief, “I’ll be right back,” she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  Above the sound of the crackling in the fire place Rafe could hear whispers. One he was sure was his mother’s; the other barely audible was another female. Rafe swore under his breath. That was the reason she was so insistent he come to dinner, why she had been acting so strange from the moment he entered the door. She was trying to set him up with one of her friend’s daughter. God, would she never stop?

  He was halfway toward the door when he came face to face with his father. Both men stood still, staring at the other, neither of them knowing what to say.

  After a long moment of awkward silence Alejandro spoke, breaking through the tension. “Rafe, how are you?”

  “I am fine, Papá. How are you?” They sounded like two strangers instead of father and son.

  “Look, I know I was out of line in demanding that you marry, but I only had your best interest at heart. You are my son and it is expected that you marry and produce an heir.”

  “I know that, Dad. But I also know I cannot settle for anything less than what you and Mamá hav
e. I did not have that with Sarafina.”

  His father crossed his wrists behind his back and strolled to stand at the fire place. He was silent for a moment, his brows knotted; he stared into the flames as if in deep thought. “And do you think you have it with this girl, this Dahlia?” The older man asked, now looking at his son.

  Rafe returned to his seat but kept standing. Considering his father’s question—carefully he offered the only answer he had. “I know that I love her. How she feels about me, I do not know, but I plan to find out. I have a flight booked for tomorrow.”

  Alejandro’s face took on a strange expression, almost as if he was trying not to laugh. Something was not right. “What happens if you go back and she is not there or with someone else? After all, it has been almost five months.”

  So his father was keeping track of time. “I believe that she must have cared for me a little and that is a start. As for your question, if she is not there I will not stop until I find her and if she is with someone else then I will need to prove to her that she should be with me.”

  “So that’s it? You have it all figured out? Well, I guess the only thing left to do, is give you my blessings.” Alejandro came forward, grasping Rafe’s hand in one of his, embracing him with the other. He could not remember his father ever being this affectionate. He enjoyed his father’s new found attitude, but could not help wondering what could have triggered this. Was there something his father was aware of that he wasn’t?

  He again caught the whispers of his mother and her female companion and his mind reeled trying to figure out what was going on. First his mother’s suspicious behavior, then his father’s unusual affection, and the voice of a strange woman hidden in the kitchen. Something was not adding up. Something was definitely wrong.

  ****

  Rafe and his father sat together in Alejandro’s office both men nursing a glass of Scotch before dinner. After five months of next to no conversation, there was a lot to talk about. The board was in the middle of buying over a smaller company in the Middle East. Rafe was aware of this, but it provided a healthy topic of discussion for both men. His father was speaking now, saying something about Richard Hathaway handing over his share of the company to his son, William. Rafe tried his best to keep up with the conversation, but his determined mind strayed.